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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23410225">good souls</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyuni123/pseuds/Skyuni123'>Skyuni123</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>One-Off Media Ficlets [16]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Doctor Sleep (2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>First Kiss, Food, Hurt/Comfort, Kindness, M/M, be nice to danny goddamn, billy wasn't a kiwi in the film but he is now!, sharing kindness over kai</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 07:56:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,371</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23410225</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyuni123/pseuds/Skyuni123</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>an interlude, somewhere in 2012, with billy and danny.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Billy Freeman/Dan "Danny" Torrance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>One-Off Media Ficlets [16]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1108839</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>49</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>good souls</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Billy Freeman is a good soul. There is not an ounce of darkness in him - at least, there isn't any more. Danny can't get a read of his past, even with his Shine, and he doesn't want to. A man is allowed his secrets, and Billy is good now, and that is all that matters. A good man lets someone like him lets someone into his life, into his heart, without stopping to question or comment or panic, and for that, Danny will be forever grateful. It is 2011, he is a mess, but in his new lodging house, things feel a little more like home.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A day or so later, he's attending his first AA meeting, Billy at his side. He doesn't want to do it, really. Alcohol numbs the other side, stops the pain, stops the memories - but... Billy saw something in him, something that no-one's seen in him for a long while. So he goes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You a religious man, Danny?" Billy asks him, one day, while they're digging a patch for some sunflowers in the front yard of the boarding house.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Religious?" It's not really a question he's had to consider. Jack Torrance might have had faith, of a sort, but it wasn't something he'd kept up into adulthood. "Not exactly."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Billy hums quietly, under his breath. He doesn't sound annoyed, or irritated, which is better than any other kind of reaction. "Not exactly?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I… have faith. Of a sort. Do I believe in an overarching deity keeping tabs on all of us from above? No - but… with what I’ve seen, let’s just say that I have faith.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Mhmm.” Billy sits back on his thighs, and wipes his gloved hands on his jeans. “You’re a hard one to read, Danny. But I admire your position. It’s good to have something to believe in.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Something, indeed... “ Danny replies, and doesn’t elaborate. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The other man looks over at him, curiously, but doesn’t ask for elaboration.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Billy is a year or two older than him, not a gambling man, and unbelievably kindhearted. He’s also from New Zealand. “I go back when I can, obviously. My kuia and all are still kicking about, and they’re always happy to see me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t mention his parents. “I’ve nearly lost the accent, of course. My whānau always mocks me when they hear my voice, but I keep up the language, and I try my hardest. That’s all you can do, really.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t ask about Danny’s parents, which is probably for the best.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The hospice is hushed, full of departing souls and trailing lives. Azzie knows more than he does, sometimes - and she’s one hell of a cat.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Not everyone would like the hospice, with the quiet and the feeling of death, but he understands it. It’s not threatening, not like some places.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m proud of you.” Billy says, after he’s stood up to get his one year chip. He pulls him into a rough hug and pats him on the back. “Want to get out of here?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Danny says, because as much as he likes the positivity, likes the congratulations…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He’s not the best at crowds.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They sit on a park bench, overlooking the place where they first met.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Danny is grateful - so unbelievably grateful. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m proud of you.” Billy repeats, staring out at the street like he knew that Danny would always get this far. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The kindness he’s been shown - the sheer undying generosity - is almost enough to bring tears to his eyes. He turns to Billy, wanting to say something else, but the words catch in his throat.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He swallows, but the words still don’t quite make their way through. “I-”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t need to say anything.” Billy says, and pats him roughly on the knee like it doesn’t matter at all. “Want dinner?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They move around each other, comfortable but not quite touching in Billy’s tiny kitchen. It’s all old furnishings, well-worn tools and thick wood cabinets, and it’s far, far more homely than Danny deserves.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He still has a lump in his throat.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It’s strange, this - to feel so cared for.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He feels like he should repay it, but he doesn’t know how.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dinner’s roasted eggplant, with beetroot, goat cheese, greens. The greens are from Billy’s own garden, grown thick and crisp with love. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Danny’s had issues with meat, ever since his… change of heart and abrupt sobriety, but these days he doesn’t even need to ask.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There’s even carbonated juice for the table, poured into thin champagne flutes. Maybe six months ago, he would have balked at the finery, at the implication of vice - but now, he welcomes it. It tugs at his compulsions, just a little, but not enough to make a scene.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The whole thing is far, far too good.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re too nice to me, you know.” Danny says, fork halfway to his mouth.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They’re sitting next to each other, on the corner of the four sided dinner table. Across would feel too structured, perhaps, but this works. It works for them, and that’s all that matters.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m really not, bro.” Billy says, and looks over him for a moment. “You came here last year, all whakamā and dark and alone - I couldn’t just leave you to your thoughts.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe you should have.” There’s things he can’t tell Billy. Things he’d never be able to say. His Shine, his past… all the little boxes in his head and the horrors that are in them.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There’s some things no-one should ever see.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Absolutely not.” Billy says, firmly. He knocks Danny’s arm with his own, just for a moment. “Besides, if I’d just left you on your own, I’d never have seen exactly how much of a terrible cook you are.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>a terrible cook-” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But then Billy is laughing, deeply and heartily too, and Danny is laughing as well, and the horrors in his head creep back into their boxes for another day, and another day after that as well.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’ve inched closer during the meal, their sides almost touching. There’s a buzz to the air, not unlike what Danny used to get with booze - before it all went to hell - but his thoughts are mercifully calm.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The juice is sweet as it goes down, with a tang from the carbonation.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>All is quiet. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>All is blessedly, mercifully quiet.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He’s not one for religion, not exactly, but he’d say someone’s looking down on him kindly today.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Billy puts his fork down and sits back in his chair with a contented sigh. He looks over at Danny, warm gaze tracking across his skin, and says, “I’m glad you’re here with me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m glad I’m here with you as well.” Danny says, his thigh pressed up against Billy’s own. The kitchen table is almost comically small, and they’re pressed together, but he doesn’t dislike it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t dislike it at all.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean it.” Billy says. “I know sometimes there’s things going on in your head that you can’t quite explain, but you’ve overcome so much, Dan, and you’re on a good path. I like seeing you like this. Happy.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s because of you.” Danny says, throat somehow dry, words coming out thin and quiet in the warm air. “You’ve just- you’ve done everything for me. You’ve made me who I’ve become.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And he reaches out, with no thought as to why, and rests his fingers on Billy’s cheek.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The air is very warm between them. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Danny.” Billy says, his voice hushed as well. “That was </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t know if it’s the gratitude swelling in his heart, or the warmth of the room, or the comfort he feels, because he’s never had a compulsion like this, or at least never acted on it, but he leans forward and grazes his lips against Billy’s. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And Billy doesn’t pull away.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Bad?” Danny asks, a moment later, because feels like he has to. Their heads are still very close, and Billy’s staring him down in the way he usually does, the kind, gentle, far-too-knowing way.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“E ipo, you could never be.” Billy replies, with just a hint of snark to his tone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <span>And Danny laughs, despite everything, despite the implications, because for one moment, everything just feels </span>
  <em>
    <span>right. </span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hit me up on the <a href="http://eph-em-era.tumblr.com"> tumblr </a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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